


workday

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, PWP, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: Longarm has an office with a desk that's tall enough for Blurr to fit under.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Harutemu, this one's for you! Entirely silly Longarm/Blurr smut because _why not._

As easily as if his frame were made out of liquid, Blurr folds down under Longarm's desk and grins up at him, his crest gently nudged against his helm by the desk's ceiling.

"...Blurr, this still isn't entirely appropriate," Longarm protests without any real force, already shifting to push his seat up against the desk, framing Blurr between his thighs.

"Nonsense we'll both enjoy it," Blurr says. "I'm already enjoying it after all now don't call anyone in I can't promise I won't try to tease you."

"That may not be up to me," Longarm says, keenly aware of Cliffjumper's presence outside at his desk, and of his appointment calendar, and of the tendency of several of his agents to barge in when they had something important to tell him - classic Autobot recklessness, not something easily trained out of their kind - but he opens his spike panel, offering it to Blurr.

Blurr's fingertips circle his tip, then slide down his spike, prompting him to shiver - he cuts his vocalizer, free to let his faceplates relax to a neutral state without anyone watching. He closes Longarm's optics, wanting to focus entirely on the sensation of Blurr's lips and glossae ghosting over his spike as his fingers slide down to the base of his spike, tracing every ridge and sensory node he can find.

He can picture Blurr down there: with glowing optics and a smug expression as he works to make Longarm shiver, field mischievous as they both risk discovery. Cliffjumper, at least, will be judgmental whenever Blurr emerges from this overly long meeting.

Not that he matters.

Longarm lays his hands flat on the desk, attempting to keep his frame calm as his charge rises, his true frame aching to expand and give Blurr a real spike to suck - but this will do. Blurr slides his lips down over his spike, bringing into his intakes and sucking gently, and here Longarm moves a hand, sliding it under the desk to nudge Blurr's crest.

::What is it sir?:: Blurr comms him, and Longarm's field reflects fond amusement and arousal.

::I can hear your purring from here. We are trying to remain discreet, remember?::

::Ah yes of course I'm terribly sorry Longarm,:: Blurr says, field hardly contrite - although his engine's purr quiets, hidden by sound muffling mods meant to be used for spywork, not illicit interfacing.

As his charge rises - Blurr bobs his head, nudging his crest against Longarm's hand before he pulls his lips off of his spike, letting Longarm feel his smirk against his thigh as Longarm's field turns unhappy - overload was so _close - !_

::Just wait sir I want you to really enjoy this - ::

::And what precisely is the reasoning for making me _wait?::_ Longarm can't help but be displeased with the concept of denying his overload here and now - much as he understands its appeal in other contexts, such as when he has Blurr tied up and refuses him overload....

Blurr licks around the base of his spike and lower over his valve panel, then back up before Longarm can think to open it - and he speeds up, using his famed speed to dart light licks and kisses over his spike and valve panel and thigh, then he's back to his spike and sucking on it hard.

Longarm's vocalizer insists on reactivating with a soft pop, and he whines softly before he cuts it, enjoying the way Blurr's field flares with smug pleasure - 

And he overloads, frame arching in his seat, hand gripping the edge of his desk - other hand wrapped around Blurr's crest, gripping it tightly.

::Ah sir you can let go now was that good?::

Longarm laughs softly, pushing his chair back so he can look at Blurr - slightly messy around the lips, with a pleased gleam in his optics - and Blurr darts forward on all fours to lick up his spike, cleaning him before Longarm retracts his spike, closing his panel. He leans forward and down to kiss Blurr, then lick his face clean, returning the favor.

Belatedly he recalls the need to use expressions on his faceplates - but his field is happy enough. When he leans back from the kiss, he smiles.

Blurr beams back, springing up to his pedes and rounding the desk, saluting crisply. The end of their play has come, and now, to work.

"Ready for your orders, sir!"


End file.
